Defending My Beliefs
by Midnyght Saber
Summary: First-person look into what Danny thought of his popularity after the events of "Reign Storm". This takes place prior to the events of "Phantom Planet".


**Disclaimer: **_Danny Phantom_ and all related characters and information are the property of Butch Hartman and Viacom International, Inc. "Sacrifice" is the property of Theory of a Deadman and Roadrunner Records, a subsidiary of Warner Music Group.

* * *

Okay, I'm about to do something sort of off-the-wall for me, so any and all critiques and comments are welcome. I am going to attempt a first-person account which, as much as I write, I don't really do. I think the only other time I did this was "More Than Meets The Eye", but even that was an omniscient kind of first-person, and I don't remember how people took to that one. Well, here's to jumping in with both feet…

Oh, and this is before Phantom Planet…and before Danny's in-town popularity starting going up, which I think was after 'Reign Storm'.

* * *

_Oh, man, that hurts._ Rubbing the back of my neck, I stretch it until I hear the satisfying snap of one of my vertebrae popping, and the pressure that was there a moment ago vanishes. Looking around, it takes a minute for me to figure out where I am. Leaning over the edge of the building, I can barely see the ground, and my watch lets me know that it's about fifteen minutes before sunrise. _Well, it can't hurt to stay for a few more minutes. I don't have to be awake for another hour or so._ A laugh works its way out of my throat. _I fell asleep on top of a skyscraper. Man, I hope Mom didn't decide to check up on me last night._

Resting against the cold steel of the antenna, I wait and watch as the deep blue sky of night gives way to the warm orange and yellow of sunrise, watching all the windows around me lighting up as the sun comes up over Lake Superior. Smiling, the thought crosses my mind that I should bring Sam up here one day to see this. She'd like it.

As the last vestiges of night transform into day, I finally push myself up, making sure that the Thermos is locked and secure. _I spent far too long last night to slip up and let the ghosts escape today, especially with school._

**No, I don't need a reason**

**To be breathing**

**Just here to do what I can**

Taking a flying leap off of the building, I let myself coast along the cool morning breeze, I slip into invisibility, flying lower until I'm only about twenty feet above the street. I noticed that there are a few new potholes in the roads, courtesy of Skulker and his overabundance of ammunition, but other than that, the collateral damage from last night's initial round of fighting is almost nil. Thankfully enough, the later fights were more chase and less fight, which is a mixed blessing when you consider how fast some of us can fly.

It doesn't take long before me to get home, and I coast through my window, letting myself turn human right as I float over my bed, the soft mattress catching me as I fall, and I pull my cell phone out of my pocket. _Once more, dead because I didn't have time to charge it. I'd bet anyone fifty bucks I've got at least ten messages from last night, and that's only if I'm lucky._ Leaning over, I grab the charger cord, plugging my phone in before tossing it onto the nearby desk and cradling myself in the fluff of my pillow. I'm not tired, but I also don't need to be up and about at this time. There's a certain reputation I have to keep up, and being an early bird is not part of that at all.

About fifteen minutes after I get home, I hear my sister's alarm clock go off, followed almost immediately with a loud groan, a thud, and silence taking over the house once more. A patter of feet, a click, more footsteps and another click, and Jazz is up and running, going about her morning routine. Mom and Dad should be awake in about ten minutes or so, the running water waking Dad and him moving waking Mom. If there's one thing better than an alarm clock, it's the sound of running water anywhere within hearing range of my father.

Sure enough, a few minutes later, I hear the footsteps of both of my parents, one headed for the downstairs bathroom, the other for the kitchen. I love that about my mom, as ghost-obsessed as she can be – she still makes sure that Jazz and I have a decent breakfast every morning, school or not. Heck, if it weren't for the severe anti-ghost beliefs she has, I'd probably turn to her first about my powers. As it is, I like being at least half-alive, considering the alternative.

**No, I don't want a family**

**Who would damn me**

**And resent everything I am**

A minute or so later,_ my_ alarm clock goes off.

_Argh! I thought I turned that thing off!_ Leaning over, I hit the button, silencing the machine, and I stretch out again, working out the last of the kinks from my impromptu overnighter downtown, and I get out of bed, picking through my dresser for something to wear, running a hand through my hair long enough to make it look like I actually did just wake up. Pulling out a clean change of clothes, I phaze out of everything but my pants, getting to the bathroom door just in time for Jazz to walk out and see me release one monster yawn. _Okay, so I'm still waking up._ I nod to her, stepping in to get through my own morning routine.

**I don't need to prove to**

**All the ones who**

**Feel that I need to fit in**

Stepping out a short while later, I toss on the fresh clothes, returning to my room long enough to toss the old ones in the hamper and put my shoes back on. I take a quick look at my reflection, seeing that the new black dress shirt I got for my birthday does actually go well enough with my jeans. _Even if it is black, Sam's still got good taste in clothes._ Leaning down, I shoulder my backpack, heading downstairs for breakfast.

Just as I'm tossing my plate into the sink, the doorbell sounds, and I know without even checking that Sam and Tucker are here, ready to head off to school. Jazz is upstairs grabbing her books, Mom went to answer the door, and Dad's busy eating second helpings of everything, so I'm able to grab an empty Thermos from the lab, the one from last night tucked away in the back of my closet until I get home and have a chance to dump it. Tossing the Thermos into my bag, I'm upstairs and out the front door before anyone notices that I made that pit stop.

"You look good, Danny," Sam says, and I can tell that the unique lilt in her voice is because I'm wearing the shirt she got for me. _Well, one of them, anyway._ I've got you to thank, I respond, and Tucker rolls his eyes, turning his attention back to his PDA. Sometimes, I honestly think that his attraction to technology should be illegal. If it weren't for Sam and me knowing him from a way earlier age, we may not have been friends now, just on account of how badly he gets lost in his machines. This, of course, is proven by my having to grab the back of his shirt to keep him from walking into traffic as the street light changes. I'm going to hate to see what happens to him if he's able to get his driver's license a year or so from now.

It has to be a surprise to the two of them when I drop to the lawn on the side of the school, comforted by the shade as I yank out last night's math homework. Thankfully, I had gotten part of it done during lunch the previous day, but seeing as it's my second class of the day, I need to finish it now.

"You feeling okay, man?" Tucker asks, and I nod. You know, unlike you, I wasn't able to get home last night, I inform him, so this is about all the time I have to finish this. With a half an hour before the warning bell goes off, I should have time to finish up the last ten questions.

**No, I won't ever tell you**

**That I've failed you**

**I'd rather start life over again**

The time passes quietly, the occasional beep sounding from Tucker's PDA, and I look over to Sam, wondering why she's fallen so quiet, finding her mouthing the words to some song or another, her ears plugged up by the headphones from her MP3 player. Leaning over, I tap her shoulder, pointing to the last math problem with my eraser, raising an eyebrow in signal for her to help me with it. She takes the pencil, correcting the mistake I made, and I'm thankful that the question I'm on is the only one that involves the quadratic equation. Not only did I forget that the first _b_ variable is supposed to be negative, I forgot that the _a_ variable on the bottom needed to be multiplied by two. Finishing out the problem, we still have about five minutes before the bell rings, and I steal one of the buds out of Sam's ear, listening to whatever it is that she's playing now.

When the bell sounds, the three of us get up, headed for our lockers, five minutes of leeway to drop off our books and get to class. Leaving everything but my English and math books, I fall behind Sam and Tuck, walking into Lancer's class with a minute or so to spare. For once, I've actually managed to be early.

**No, I'm sorry to say**

**There'll be no sacrifice today**

"Good to see you in class, Mr. Fenton," Lancer chimes up, and I nod, raising a hand in a subdued wave of hello.

Dropping into my seat, I open my textbook to a random page, letting my eyes scan over the text until the bell rings and the rest of the class settles down.

Of course, no day can go by without some sort of disruption, but for once, the attack came between classes, so I was able to avoid the detention that would have otherwise come with being ten minutes late to class. _List of things to do, _I thought, _go home and empty the Thermos from yesterday. Then, take today's Thermos and give Box Ghost a real long case of what-for before sending him back to the Zone._

**No, I can see it clearly**

**Why you fear me**

**Why you gotta bring me down**

Rubbing my shoulder, I can still feel the scratch from the rock that got thrown at me. For all the talk about my family being ghost hunters, you would have figured that someone would have realized that ghosts are real, but of course, when you put the truth in front of a person, they just can't see it for what it is. So, in the course of trying to catch the Box Ghost and keep him from going on with a 'righteous fury of cardboard catastrophe', or some such nonsense, I get clipped across the shoulder with a rock about the size of my fist before the thrower of said rock darted back into the school.

That little road bump aside, the day went fairly smoothly up until lunch.

"Fen-turd!" The name tears through my ears like a rabid dog, and I mentally count down. _Five…four…three…two…one…_ And as I hit zero, I lose the ability to breathe as Dash catches the back of my shirt and pulls me back, tossing me head-first into the lockers, and like always, the only thought running through my head is _Where are the teachers when you need them?_

**No, I don't want to fight you**

**Just to spite you**

**But I'm not afraid to take you out**

"You realize that my history teacher is trying to keep me out of the game this week because I failed a test last Friday?" he screams into my ear, and I shake my head to let him know that, no, I was unaware they were finally trying to pull him out of his after-school activities until his grades pulled up. He pistons his fist into my stomach because of my answer, though I figure even nodding would have earned me the same result. Appeased for the moment, he drops me to the floor and strides off with the rest of the junior varsity team.

I get to my feet slowly, finding myself alone in the hallway, and in frustration, punch one of the nearby lockers. Were I not the person I am, I would at least attempt to fight Dash to protect myself, but being what I am, it doesn't surprise me when the door to the locker crumples around my fist, leaving me no option but to go intangible in order to extricate myself from the ruined metal.

**No, I'm sorry to say**

**There'll be no sacrifice today**

Turning, I head for the lunchroom, knowing two things: one – there isn't much left in terms of food to be served because I'm now running about ten minutes late, and two – either Sam or Tucker would have brought me something from home just in case.

As it was, Sam was the one that brought me lunch. I can tell – it's salad and a container of juice. Despite the varied foodstuffs her parents eat, she takes advantage of being the one to occasionally bring my back-up lunch. I can't say that I mind, though, because it's a breath of fresh air from Tucker's meat-heavy fare.

Dropping down next to them, I flip a quick smile before digging into the salad, only to hear Sam laughing softly. Looking up, she waves a small baggie in my face, and I look at it to find it steamed, filled with recently-warmed chicken strips. Okay, so maybe Sam doesn't take _total_ advantage of being the one to bring my lunch.

"So, what kept you this time?" Tucker asks through a mouthful of…_What the heck is that?_ I shake my head to clear my thoughts, knowing that I'm better off remaining in the dark about whatever it was Tuck called lunch today. Same old, I answer between bites, respectful enough to not talk with a mouth full of food. You know how Dash gets when there's a big game soon after a test.

**Everybody expects me to break**

**But I'll never break down again**

Rubbing my shoulder again, I feel the sore flesh, worried that there's going to be

another bruise added to the growing collection, wondering just how hard the rock had to have been thrown to mark me. They both catch the motion, knowing that something hurt me, a fact that is now routine between us, and as such, don't even bother asking. If I'm not bleeding or in antagonizing amounts of pain, I don't worry them about the pain.

Lunch goes by in a scary kind of silence, mostly because there isn't all that much to talk about today, and with a few minutes before the bell rings, we're up, out of the lunchroom, trays dumped and piled, and Team Phantom breaks off in three different directions, each of us heading to our respective classes.

**Everybody expects me to give up**

**But you'll never see me giving in**

My class happens to be Social Sciences, and the topic of today, like any other Thursday, is current events. Being in class with Paulina leads us all to groan when the teacher asks for a newspaper clipping from one of us, and her hand is automatically up, the article from this morning's paper about my previous night's exploits in bold print on page two. _Wait, page two? What the heck beat out nine different ghost attacks?_ Looking over at the newspaper, I catch the barest glint of the front page and mentally smack myself. The top page is always the main photo and the introductory part of the article, so I technically earned myself two pages with last nights' little skirmish party. I don't know whether to be proud of that or embarrassed.

**Everybody wants me to lose**

**But I'll never lose who I am**

Thankfully, Paulina's exuberance is tempered not only by our teacher asking for a non-Phantom article but also Valerie's presence in class. She's nowhere near a fan of my 'work', and calling her a critic of it would be an even worse title. About the only thing any of us can say about her is that she is the pure, unadulterated antithesis of Paulina, which, no matter how you spin it, is a comforting thought.

In the end, our current events discussion turns away from my other life and to the proposition that was brought before the city council about a week ago about setting aside about an acre and a half of the park to this year's Earth Day tree-planting project. Some part of me was sure Sam had something to do with the proposition, and it wouldn't surprise me if she was the main force behind it. After all, she is our resident Lover of All Things Green and Leafy, as Tucker once put it.

Heck, even Dash mentioned it in class that he figured the "weird Goth chick" had to have had a part in the motion.

The final class of the day was one that we all had together, which was good. That class, however, was physical education, which was bad for two reasons…usually. The first is always the same – Dash will find whatever reason to pick on me while out of the sight of the teacher. It's just in his nature to mess with me as long as he's sure he won't get into trouble for doing so. The second wasn't always a guarantee because it hinged on the sport or physical activity we were involved in, which changed up every five weeks. The reason for this is easy to explain – I can't let people know I'm half-ghost, so I have to be 'bad' at whatever it is that my powers would normally help me excel at – like dodgeball or weight lifting. Which, by the way, are both part of sophomore year P.E.

This batch of five weeks, however, is a point in time where I can relax because I'm just naturally good at this – swimming. That fact is proven in the most unorthodox means possible, though, because Dash and Kwan decide to send me flying into the deep end of the pool. Saving myself from the immense pain of the belly flop I would have done otherwise, I curled into a tight ball, hitting the water and sinking, barely hearing the sound of the gym teacher's whistle as the water rushes past my ears. Kicking off against the bottom of the pool, I break the surface of the water soon enough, falling into the comforting rhythm of the front crawl, a swimming stroke I learned from Jazz when I was seven or eight. Mentally, I award myself bonus points for two things: cannon-balling into the pool without freaking out, and showing off to the teacher that there was something I was actually good at.

**No, I'm sorry to say**

**There'll be no sacrifice today**

**No, I'm sorry to say**

**There'll be no sacrifice**

**Today**

In the end, I got actual bonus points for the class solely _because_ I was able to demonstrate a proper front crawl. Such an ego booster.

Oh, and Dash and Kwan got detention for a week and pulled from that weekends' game. The detention was because of a 'flagrant disregard for the safety of a fellow student' and they were pulled from the game due to the particular infraction. And to make matters all that much sweeter, they had to serve the detentions during P.E., so I got to avoid them for the next five days of swimming. _Woot._

As soon as class let out, I was in and out of the locker room, intangibility serving to dry me and my clothes out so that I was out a full ten minutes before Tucker, working my way through the first part of tonight's math homework while I waited for the two of them so that we could go to our lockers before heading to the Nasty Burger for a couple of shakes and some well-deserved downtime…as long as nobody decided that Amity Park needed a good scare. Which, thankfully, they didn't.

Until about six o'clock.

**Everybody expects me to break**

**But I'll never break down again**

For once, I was actually able to get through all my homework, an event that nearly merited me getting cake and ice cream to celebrate, but as I was currently tailing a speeding motorcycle, there were other, more important matters at hand.

Dropping lower to the ground, I swerved hard to the right as Johnny sent Shadow back after me, the dark blob shooting past as I phazed through the bushes lining the park, coming back through with the Thermos armed and ready, taking not only Johnny and his bike, but also managing to catch Shadow as he arced around to attack me again.

**Everybody expects me to give up**

**But you'll never see me giving in**

The only thing that upsets my current string of luck is the roar of engines behind me, coming in hot and fast, and I close my eyes, letting my ears tell me exactly where Valerie is, and the whine of her guns sounds mere seconds before she fires. Dodging clear of the blast (_Remember when I said I would be great in dodgeball?_), I roll hard to the left, phazing through the ground and moving far enough away that I'm able to come up a good fifteen feet behind her, morphing back to my human form and walking calmly along the sidewalk, hands tucked into my pockets, and I'm doing everything in my power not to break into the biggest grin ever as she turns to look at me, looks at her wrist-mounted ghost scanner, and bolts back the way she came.

I can only assume that there's going to be about half a page about this little debacle in tomorrow's paper. My notoriety is on-again, off-again, but I could certainly use a break from the pseudo-celebrity status. My only saving grace tonight is probably going to be the fact that there weren't as many ghosts attacking today. After nabbing so many the previous day, there weren't too many in the mood to have to deal with me, and as such, there wouldn't be as much time to get the reporters and photographers near enough to the scene to even attempt to get the 'scoop'.

**Everybody wants me to lose**

**But I'll never lose who I am**

Figuring that I need some time to myself, I called my mom, letting her know that I was going over to Sam's for a while, after which I called Sam to let her know that I was going to be out of a couple of hours and I needed her to cover in case someone called for me.

"You got it, Danny. Talk to you later."

Hanging up the cell, I transform once more, picking a newspaper off of one of the park benches, abandoned at some earlier point in the day. Flying, I end up back on the same building where I had woken up, dropping down and going mostly human, leaving my eyes green to give the newspaper a respectable amount of illumination.

**No, I'm sorry to say**

**There'll be no sacrifice today**

I shake my head softly, my eyes running over the varied comments, positive and negative, made regarding my actions during the fight last night with Skulker. It seems that I have a few supporters here and there, but seeing the way Paulina acts when it comes to 'the ghost boy', I'm not ready to greet the town and let them know who I am. _For all I know, my loyal fans are all rabid females that think I'm the greatest thing to hit Amity since Ember._ I shiver at the thought. _That was the singular most disturbing thing to run though my mind since I can't remember when._ Flipping a few pages in, I flop back, letting my eyes skim over the comics before folding the paper in half. When I get to Sam's, I'll go ahead and drop this in the recycling bin in her yard. Better than leaving it here to get blown around by the wind…or tossed into the garbage.

**No, I'm sorry to say**

**There'll be no sacrifice today**

Coasting along the night breeze, it doesn't take me long to get to Sam's, and once she answers the door, we head downstairs, Tucker already having arrived for a quick round of video games before we all have to go our separate ways.

**No sacrifice today**

"You okay, dude?" Tucker asks, apparently seeing something in my stance or appearance that belies the fact that I've been a little caught up with the idea that people need to leave my ghostly business alone. For their safety rather than that of my secret.

**No sacrifice today**

I nod. Never been better, I tell him as I drop onto the couch. So, what're we playing?


End file.
